I’ve always been a planner. Part of the appeal of homesteading is the necessity of planning: weeks, months, even years in advance. In a time when making plans outside of the home is nearly impossible, homesteading provides an outlet, a sense of stability, and purpose. I’ve already drawn up plans for next year’s gardens. I know what grows well and what doesn’t. I know to start my seeds later than what my gut tells me, because sometimes it snows in May. I know to plant fewer peppers, since they take forever to fruit and that space could be better utilized by a higher yield crop. I’ll use my electric cultivator to get more plants in the ground next season. I’ll try out grow bags for potatoes. More beets and more kale.
But before we get to next spring, there’s a whole winter to prepare for. This will be our third winter in the North Country, so I know what to expect. I’ve got multiple contacts for plowing services, my trusty snowblower, and a small plow for my ATV. I know to expect most of the snowfall after the holidays. I’ve stocked up on merino wool sales this summer, knowing there will be days well below freezing. The new element this winter: chickens. I have yet to go through a winter with a flock, and their current accommodations aren’t quite ideal. There’s no power source out by their coop, so keeping water liquid becomes a challenge (there are tricks, but when it’s below zero, it’s just persistence). We regularly get storms that drift snow taller than even Morticia, and I rather not shovel another yard.
So! The flock will spend summer, fall, spring, and the milder portion of winter in the Hen Pen. When we dip into the dead of winter, and the snow piles up, and we barely break freezing, I’ll move the girls into the back stall of my barn. A spare dog crate with roosting bars and cover will make for a toasty coop.
Initially, I planned on putting up some fencing to keep the birds to one side of the barn, but I decided to just cover up my lawn equipment with tarps. Once winter rolls around, I’ll get a heater for their water and maybe even provide a heat source for the birds themselves, depending on how cold it gets. Like sled dogs, they’ll grow winter feathers to keep themselves warm, and I don’t want to mess with their natural insulation.
Their winter setup doubles as a secure enclosure for when I take (short) trips, which I tested out this past weekend. I have someone available to care for the flock if I go away for longer, but for two nights, closing them up in the barn with plenty of feed and water keeps them safe. It’s not as fun as being outside in their pen, but it’s definitely better than the inside of a fox.
I took the dogs down to New Jersey for the first time since January, which was a nice mini-escape in what has been an unusually sedentary year. I wanted to get down there before mushing season kicks into gear, and with the yearlings still recuperating from spay/neuter surgeries, it seemed like the best time for a visit. The ten hour (round trip) van ride was a good way to keep them calm, even if they went a little bit wild once we got there.
For now, we’re back in the North Country and eagerly awaiting the onset of fall. The pups should be ready to run again by Tuesday and it looks like cooler weather is serendipitously on its way. I still don’t quite know what this mushing season will look like for us, but I’m ready to get rolling.
